


Dance

by nerdqueenenterprise



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 02:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdqueenenterprise/pseuds/nerdqueenenterprise
Summary: Phil is stuck at a 'Fleet Party without his boyfriend.





	Dance

There’s a headache pounding nicely right behind Phil’s eyes, and it’s spreading out to his temples as well. As fun as these official functions are, they’re also taking quite the toll on him. Especially this one, which is mostly for Command anyways, and the only reason he was invited was out of politeness. Which would also have made it rather impolite to decline the invitation, which ultimately lead to him here, somewhere at the outer fringes of the gathering, holding a drink he doesn’t even like, wearing an uniform that’s decidedly uncomfortable, and getting grumpier by the minute.

But he promised to meet Chris here, which would’ve improved his mood greatly. Except Chris has been delayed.

He turns half towards the band, pretending to watch them while taking a sip of his drink. Warm prosecco. Yikes.

At least it’s good music, the kind he’d like to dance to, if his partner were here. If he’d socialize a little, he’d surely find another willing partner, but he’d decidedly prefer not to engage in any mindless pleasantries.

“Now that’s a face I hadn’t expected to see tonight.” It’s a woman’s voice. Phil swallows his grimace and turns around to her.

“Admiral Weitt.” His smile is forced. He hopes it’s not too noticeable.

“Doctor Boyce.” Her smile seems far more genuine.

They chat for a while until she excuses herself, leaving Phil to his warm prosecco and the band. 

But not for long, because Commodore Meissner seems to have spotted him, and there’s absolutely no refusing the dance Phil is offered. At least he gets rid of his drink that way, but unfortunately the commodore is everything but an accomplished dancer. Well. He isn’t attractive either… or what Phil would call educated… or well-spoken… or… anything, really.

Also his breath smells. Phil eventually manages to excuse himself to the bar. 

His headache hasn’t gotten better either, and he considers ordering something with lots of alcohol to try and numb himself a little. Where the hell is Chris if you need him?

 

One thoroughly uncomfortable chat with Captain LeBeau and her three daughters - lieutenants, all of them - later and Phil seeks refuge on the balcony, catching some oxygen, only to be found by Meissner again.

“A nice night, isn’t it?” the commodore booms next to him. Phil’s head throbs. Is this the commodore’s attempt at nice conversation?

“You know, Boyce, I was wondering how your hospital was runnning. You busy much?”

That, coupled with how close the other man is standing, has Phil realizing with a sudden shock that the commodore is probably trying to come onto him.

Also: his hospital? He’s Surgeon General - he doesn’t just run a hospital, he runs the biggest hospital in the galaxy and the entire medical research of the Federation as well as the ’Fleet’s medical school. It’s not just a hospital, it’s an entire division that he runs on top of working as a doctor, and there’s a very distinct wound to his pride at those words.

“Oh, it’s crazy at the moment.” The lie comes easily. “You know, whenever there’s some more time, we’ve got to catch up with all the paperwork, and let me tell you, that’s a nuisance. I barely spend any time at home at all.”

“Shame, really. Though I hear it’s going okay, really, so I was wondering if -“

“Well, okay is relative. Sure, we don’t have any big emergencies around at the moment, thank God, but there’s a lot more to running Starfleet Medical than just fulfilling doctorly duties,” Phil replies pointedly. The other man’s upper arm is brushing his shoulder, but he can’t escape to the other side either, because there’s a pillar there, which he’d originally chosen for its mental support. Now, he feels trapped between the commodore and unforgiving stone, an uncomfortable reminder of days he’d rather not relive. Sure, he’s twenty years away from his father’s abuse, but that doesn’t undo it.

“You must have an evening free here or there. See, I was wondering…”

Phil ignores the rest of what Meissner is saying and takes a sip from his drink. Where on Earth is Chris?

“Boyce?”

He sighs and puts his glass down with a definite clink.

“Sorry, commodore, I’m not in the mood for smalltalk.”

Turning away is oddly freeing, and he almost makes it to the dance floor again until Meissner is suddenly by his side again, puffing a little from the extertion of having to walk faster for a few steps, and Phil can’t help but think of his lovely Chris, fit and buff and able to take no for an answer.

“Then maybe a dance?”

“I’m really not in the mood, commodore. I think I might retire early. It’s been a stressful week.” Phil gives another wooden smile before fleeing properly, slipping along the edges of the event. Luckily he won’t need to make his excuses to anyone, so he’s free to leave. He’ll just have to shoot Chris a quick message, but… honestly, he can’t bear this on his own. His jacket collar is stifling him even more than the used air in the room, his headache is killing him and the last drink left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. All he wants is to lose the threads and flop face first onto his beloved’s stomach and sleep for half a week.

The band begins a new song, one that would be lovely to dance to, and Phil has to twist away from the abruptly emerging couples.

Suddenly he bumps into someone, a warm, broad chest in his slightly downcast view, almost stepping on the stranger’s toes. The man catches Phil just as he’s about to stutter out an apology and instead translates their stumble into a graceful movement that almost fits the music.

“I hope you’re not thinking of leaving already,” the stranger purrs.

Phil tries to twist out of his grip because honestly, being forced to dance right now would be the absolute worst ending to this day.

“I’m sorry, but I was just -“ He looks up and trails off. 

The stranger is smiling at him, beautiful grey-blue eyes crinkling with mirth, burnished blond locks almost long enough to fall into them, a perfect, straight nose and supple lips that are rarely without a hint of a smirk. Except he isn’t a stranger.

“Chris,” Phil breathes, the weight of the universe falling off of him as Chris twirls them almost perfectly in tune with the music.

His boyfriend laughs and leans in for an almost kiss.

“May I have this dance, Doctor Boyce?”

Phil tightens his grip on Chris’ jacket and let’s himself be lead across the dance floor.

“You may.”

He allows himself to lean on Chris a little, close his eyes and just follow the sway of the music.

“I’m sorry I’m so late, baby boy,” Chris whispers into his ear. His breath tickles nicely and Phil wants to stay in his arms forever. “The admiral was… insisiting. Were you okay on your own?”

Phil sighs a little and furrows his brow. “Just this dance, okay? I’d like to go home.”

“Of course, love. Anything for you.”

Phil lets himself fall into the dance, Chris leading just as surely as he always does, their bodies falling so nicely into tandem together.

 

The song ends and Phil is almost reluctant to open his eyes. Chris brings them to a gentle stop and kisses him softly.

“Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”

Phil smiles and allows Chris to untangle them and lead them away from the dance floor and out of the building into the blissfully cool night air. The music is far away suddenly, and Phil’s hand comes up immediately to open his collar a little. Chris still has his arm securely around his middle, a safe, warm, happy pressure against Phil’s side.

“Are you okay, Phil?”

He looks up at Chris and there are the stars shining in his eyes together with the concern.

“I am, now. Um, it was just… it was a little much, and I wasn’t in the right mood, met some unpleasant people… I don’t know. Tonight wasn’t for me. You don’t have to leave with me, though, Chris, you can -“

“No, no, no, no, no, Phil. You’re so much more important to me than some party. What do you need?” Chris leans him against their car, hands at Phil’s hips, setting a feather light kiss against the corner of Phil’s mouth.

“It’s just a headache, Chris, nothing bad.”

“Alright, well, then we’re going to get you to our apartment and we’re just going to curl up in bed and call it a night, okay?”

Phil smiles and pulls Chris close, finally kissing him properly.

 

Chris gets him into the car, and Phil ends up falling asleep on the ride back, only waking up when Chris has already parked. He doesn’t really remember much from actually getting inside their apartment, but he falls asleep safely in his lover’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> This just kinda happened in between study breaks. I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave me a comment if you did :)


End file.
